Romano and Me
by Shyrgasse
Summary: Romano can barely stand with his severe case of choriea when his parents pass away and is left to live with Antonio. Through hard work and patients, Antonio tries to get Romano to walk and live a normal life.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The silent sound of the funeral hymn could be heard from where three adults stood in a tight circle. Two were a couple; the husband had his arm firmly wrapped around his wife as she dabbed a stray tear or two that leaked down her cheeks. His long piano fingers ran through her ringlets of soft brown hair as her teary green eyes looked at the young man across from her. He had the same shade eyes and soft brown hair with the same wavy consistency as her own, but they were barely related- just one ounce of blood that connected them.

"Antonio, Roderich and I just don't have the funds to take in the eldest boy. Last year we had to take in Roderich's second cousin. We barely have enough room for Feliciano!"

"Then why don't you take Lovino while I take Feliciano? You two placing that boy in my hands is too much." At this his distant cousin frowned. "Don't give me that look, Elizabeta. You are asking me to take in a crippled boy when I know nothing about children. You and Roderich would know more on how to…" He licked his lips as he thought of the appropriate word, "Treat Lovino. Besides I am not even related to the boy!"

At that, he seemed to release the beast from his somewhat cousin, "Listen here!" She seethed. "Your brother married their aunt! By that connection alone, it is your duty to take Lovino in. Roderich and I don't have the funds for such a… such a special case!"

"Quite honestly Elizabeta, I think I forfeited my right to any connections to the Vagras when their aunt left my brother for that American."

"But now they are both dead-"

"It's not my problem. If you want me to take one of the children, then it will be Feliciano and not Lovino."

For the first time, the silent Roderich spoke, his lips pursed at the Spaniard, "Don't you work in a hospital of some kind?" He asked with a snap.

Antonio frowned deeply, "I work at a home where I teach old people to dance. If you are saying that I am medically qualified to take Lovino in-"

"More so than either Elizabeta and I. We are poor; we'll be lucky to feed both Italy and the new boy at home three meals a day. Imagine if we took in Lovino instead. Someone of his condition will surely take most of our funds. What will it be? Eat when we can? God gives us trials, Antonio. That boy is practically made for you and you know it! Taking the easy way out just because he's too much of a burden is not what Christ wants. You _are_ a God fearing man, are you not Mister Carriedo?"

Antonio rubbed his forehead, feeling a distinct pressure beginning to build up into a migraine. "Are you telling me that I should take Lovino in because some invisible man made this child for me?"

"No. Because it's what's right. If you have a shred of humanity in you, you will take in that boy." Roderich finished leaving the hymn to pour back into the room.

For the first time since Antonio had arrived, he decided to take a quick peak past Elizabeta and Roderich to see the two brothers viewing their family's caskets. Feliciano was on his knees, praying silently while the older brother sat in a chair, his legs incased in metal. In the short amount of time that Antonio took his quick peek at the boys, he saw Lovino's hand jerk at least three times. Guilt built up in Antonio's stomach as he watched the hand twitch and cease.

"Alright." He half whispered.

"What was that?" Elizabeta asked in half disbelief.

"I said alright, I'll take the oldest in. Like I actually have a heart to turn him or anyone else down."

His cousin smiled in relief. "Then maybe you should go and at least say hello to him?"

Antonio thought on it for a moment before answering, "Well, he is the cutest boy I have ever seen- besides Feliciano that is." He laughed and Roderich rolled his eyes.

Elizabeta let out a sigh, "Well, I guess it's time we let the boys know of their fate."

The three of them walked back into the parlor room. Feliciano stood from his prayers, tear stains covered his cheeks. A second later there was a crash as one of Lovino's flailing limbs made contact with a vase, knocking it onto the floor causing it to shatter.

"Damn it!" The boy cried.

Feliciano sniffled and whispered, "I picked those flowers for mama and papa, Romano."

"Like I did it on purpose!" Romano snapped at the younger boy.

"No…You never do." Feliciano replied weakly.

"Boys, boys," Elizabeta interrupted them; "It's just a cheap vase of flowers." There was a poignant pause, "Come with me Feliciano, we'll go pick some more flowers for them okay? Oh don't cry Feli!" She cooed as the boy began to howl into her gown.

"Would you stop making so much damn noise, you big baby!" Romano shouted from his chair and he shakily stood up, his metal incased legs stood awkwardly straight.

"Lovino." Antonio said warningly causing the boy to narrow his eyes.

"What did you just call me?" His voice went up a few octaves, "Who the hell are you to speak to me such a way? I don't go by Lovino, you dumbass. It's Lovino 'Romano' Vagras. My father was Lovino and he's dead in that casket right there. I am Romano. Do I look dead to you?"

"R-Romano…" Feliciano whispered softly from Elizabeta's skirts.

"No! I don't know these people; you don't know these people! For all we know they could be in the slave business! Where is the proof that they are our flesh blood, huh? You tell me!"

There was a resounding slap that echoed through the room. Romano was silenced as his jerking hand found its way to his now red cheek. Roderich stood above him, the light whiting out his glasses. "I have heard enough out of you. All I've heard since I've been here is your constant bitterness. I do realize, Romano, that your parents have just died, but you have no right to treat the only family you have left this way."

Romano's yellow eyes locked stubbornly with Roderich's blue ones, "The only family I have left is hiding in that woman's skirts!" He spat up defiantly.

"Is that so?" Roderich deep voice hissed, "Well then, don't complain when you're starving on the streets. Come Eliza, let's go pick some flowers with Feliciano. Romano doesn't see us as family after all."

"Roderich…" Elizabeta said uncertainly.

"I said come, Eliza. If this stubborn boy wants us gone, then we're leaving and we're taking Feliciano with us." Her husband snapped.

Without another word, Elizabeta guided the sniveling Feliciano towards the door. The younger looked at the older, who was leaning heavily on the chair he had been sitting on. "Romano…" Feliciano cried weakly.

"Get out of here!" Romano squawked. "I don't need you! I don't need anybody! Certainly not you!" Romano let go of the chair and walked after his brother in a heated rage. "You are all worthless bastards!" He shouted before his legs jerked violently, and Romano lost his balance, collapsing into an undignified heap.

The door closed. His brother was gone with his new parents to pick fresh flowers for the dead ones. Antonio stood in his forgotten spot, as he watched Romano struggle to sit up, but his hands and elbows shook violently, causing his upper body to collapse in each attempt. Finally, for the first time, Romano let out a wail. The fierce cry was full of not only tears and sorrow, but something else. Frustration, brokenness, misery. The young man's shoulders shook as he let out sob after sob.

Romano missed his parents, missed his younger brother that was now outside picking flowers. Most of all, Romano was plain frustrated and couldn't get up from the floor. After letting Romano cry for a good few minutes, Antonio moved. He placed his hands gently on Romano's shoulders.

Instantly the boy reacted, "What the hell do you want?" He hissed in between his sobs. Antonio let his hands grip Romano and helped the boy into a sitting position. "I don't need your help." Romano fussed.

"I know."

"Then why did you move me?" Romano spat.

"Because…" Antonio thought his words through, "You looked as if you were too busy letting it all go."

"Damn straight." Romano said as he began to wipe away his tears. "Not because I can't sit up on my own."

"Exactly." Antonio replied.

Romano sniffled and wiped his face on his sleeve before quietly muttering. "Could you help me to my feet so I can place some of those flowers I knocked over on their caskets?"

Antonio barely heard him, but instead of asking Romano to repeat that he crouched beside the boy, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and standing up. Romano legs instantly began to do a jig, the boy's weight shifting radically, causing Antonio to stumble the first few steps they took together. Quickly, Antonio got used to the dance and made his way to the first casket without stumbling. The boy placed his palms on its wooden surface, holding himself up as Antonio plucked a few flowers from the shards of vase.

"Here." Antonio offered the delicate tulip.

Romano took it silently and began to think, even though his body jerked and twitched as he stood. "You… They said that we shouldn't see their bodies because it might scare us. But I want to see and Feliciano isn't here. I agree he's too young to see… to see…" Romano choked.

"Are you sure?" Antonio was shocked by the kid's bravery. "What happened to them will be visible, especially your mother."

"I can handle it." Romano stubbornly argued.

Antonio complied, nodding as he unlocked the top half of the first coffin, containing the boy's father- taking a deep breath, not sure even if he himself was ready to see the body. Romano let out an audible hiss and a half screech. The man lying in the casket was missing half his face, which had been blown off when the bullet had left his skull. Romano's tears were renewed but as gently as his jerking body would allow, he placed the tulip in his father's casket. The boy nodded and Antonio replaced the lid.

They went to the next casket and Antonio looked away, not wanting to see the horror inside. There was a loud scream from Romano before the boy collapsed on his butt. Antonio went to his knees to hug the shaking boy. Hysteria began to grip the Romano, his breaths ragged and laced with hiccups.

"How could bastards do that to my mom!" He screamed. "She was goddamn beautiful! Why did they do that to my mom? What had she done to do deserve that?"

"Shh, Romano those men were evil. She couldn't have done anything to deserve-"

"How do you know? What _could_ you know? _You're a fucking stranger!_"

"Shh, Romano, calm down, everything is going to be alright."

"Nothing is alright! My brother is probably going to live with those two and I'm…" And he stopped. Romano dropped the flower he was going to give his mother to cover up his face once more, sobbing out his pain. Antonio picked up the tulip, placing the bloom inside the coffin, at the same time not having the courage to look at the woman inside. Antonio felt like a coward. This fifteen year old boy had had the courage to look at his mother. But Antonio was fine with simply shutting the lid.

"Would you like to come live with me, Romano?" Antonio asked at long last.

Romano shook his head. "I want to go wherever my brother goes."

Antonio gave him a sad smile. "I'm sorry but they don't have the money to take you both in."

Romano gritted his teeth as he looked angrily at the carpet. "It's because of my… condition isn't it?"

"No." Antonio lied.

"Will I be able to see Feliciano often?"

"Probably not." Antonio admitted.

"Do I have a choice?"

"Probably not." Antonio admitted again.

"Then fine." Romano agreed.

"Alright." Antonio said as he stood up, helping Romano once again to his feet before placing him in his chair. He was about to leave the boy to go and break the news to Roderich and Elizabeta- that Romano had agreed to live with him, when the boy spoke up once again.

"My mother was the most beautiful woman in the world, you know. That's probably why they killed her."

"Probably not." Antonio admitted for the last before leaving Romano to mourn.

* * *

**Wow I just wrote that all in one sitting! This is my first Hetalia fanfic. In case you were wondering Feliciano is three years younger than Romano at 12 and the illness that Romano has is choreia or at least a severe version of it. I don't know much about it, but I took char of an old lady that had a bad version of choreia and I am basing Romano's movements and actions after what happened to her. I'm sorry if this was a bit long. I don't think chapter 2 will be anywhere as long as this. Also I have yet to decide if this will be a romantic Romano/Spain or if Romano falls for another or what. Time will tell by what audience picks this up. Oh right, Antonio is only about 20 at the start of this fanfic. That's right, years are going to pass by in this fanfic. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

They buried the two murdered bodies and the brothers separated with their respective new families. Feliciano of course, had to be pried from his older brother as he cried, not wanting to leave. Romano even sourly patted his brother's back before allowing the Austrian to pry the boy from his body. Antonio wheeled Romano from the graves; soundlessly they strolled to Antonio's beaten down pickup. Lifting Romano up bridal style, Antonio placed his new care inside the cab. Together they tried to maneuver those metal braced encased legs.

"Can we take these off? It's a long trip to Spain from here I'm afraid." Antonio asked exasperated.

Romano's brow knitted. "Their bolted directly into my bones, you cha cha'ing idiot."

The Spaniard frowned deeply then shrugged as he rotated Romano diagonally letting his feet drape into his own driving space. Antonio climbed in his own side before asking, "Is there anyone else you would like to say one final good bye to, Romano?"

"I'm the village freak, I'm sure they're all celebrating my departure," came a muffled reply as Romano looked out his window with a neutral stare. It wasn't a sour look or a sad one, this made Antonio slightly distressed. This brother was so different from Feliciano, who had cried to both Elizabeta and himself how he had at least half the town to say good bye to. Romano on the other hand, didn't seem to care if he didn't see these people ever again.

"Okay then." Antonio didn't want to push it; he wasn't going to force Romano to do the right thing. In his opinion Romano was old enough and mature enough to make his own decisions.

So they left the small home town of Romano's, with the minuscule amount of belongings in the back of Antonio's truck.

* * *

Coming into view of Madrid was the first time in the whole trip that Romano stirred. Their journey was nonstop and it was morning once again, revealing a giant city. Romano sat straighter in the cab to get a better look.

"Haven't seen so many cars before, mi amigo?" Antonio inquired.

"So many people!" Romano screeched.

"Madrid is one of the biggest cities in the world Romano; what did you expect?"

Romano hissed, "You said I was going to live in Spain, not bloody Madrid."

"Oh." Antonio thought back a bit before laughing to himself. "I guess I never did tell you where you were going to live. Don't worry my little country bumpkin, you'll be just fine."

"What did you just call me?"

"Romano, grow a sense of humor." Antonio laughed before he was kicked by one of Romano's metal legs. "Ouch- Hey don't kick me."

"I didn't kick you." Romano stated.

"Yes you did, ouch, there you did it again now stop."

The rest of the drive was in silence. Antonio parked in a lot behind a huge red brick building. He placed one suit case on Romano's lap while he carried the other luggage in his hand and pushed Romano up to the entrance.

The young boy's eyes widened and began to shake with fear. Old people, crippled people, lined the walls, talking, walking- a lady with two canes walked by moaning the same sound over and over and over. She muttered something and Antonio seem to brighten up.

"Hello Mrs. Lopez! It's a beautiful day, no?" Antonio greeted the old, scary, very crippled lady. She grunted and moaned the same sound over and over as she left.

"What the hell is this?" Romano exclaimed worried. "You're going to leave me in a home you bastard! How could you? I'm just a kid! Surely the Edelsteins would rather take me in than you placing me in a home-

"Romano…"

"Please don't place me in a home! I'll be more pleasant I promise-"

"Romano this is where I work and live." Antonio shook the boy looking into the freshly tear streaked face.

"Really? You're not bullshitting me?" The Italian whimpered.

"This is really where I work and live. Now stop crying." Antonio ruffled the boy's hair before wheeling him to an old elevator. The mechanism took them six floors up before letting them out, and Antonio went to the door just outside of the elevator and unlocked it.

"Here we are." Antonio announced. "It's small, but it's home."

Romano wheeled himself in, looking at his new home in awe. In the corner sat a twin bed that had a coffee table to the side of it that had half written papers and even a bed side lamp and a coffee cup. To his left was the only door to the place, to the bathroom he assumed. Further in were the kitchen and the balcony. That was it; that was Antonio's home.

"Where are you going to put me?" Romano questioned.

"In the bed."

"Where are you going to sleep?"

"On the floor if you want, but I had really hoped you'd let me sleep in the bed as well."

There was a long silence. Antonio didn't think the boy was going to reply until, "I kick badly in my sleep, but if you can put up with that, then we can share the bed."

"You're a sweet boy, Romano." The Italian scowled up at Antonio. "Anyways, let's get you out of this chair. Tonight after we've gotten some sleep you're going to meet someone special."

"Special?" Romano questioned as he put his hands on Antonio's shoulders as he was helped to stand and wobble to the bed. He never liked that word. Special was what people considered him all the time. If there was one thing Romano knew about himself is that he wasn't special. There was nothing special about being a cripple.

"Mmm, very special. Until then, mi amigo, I need to get some rest. That was Satan's drive, I tell you."

Romano wiggled into the far side of the bed, and curled up on his side facing away from his new parent. The last thing he remembered was the bed sinking to Antonio's own weight before blissfully falling asleep.

The smell of food woke Romano. He laid on his back with an arm draped over his face that occasionally twitched. His golden eyes focused on the white ceiling, letting everything sink in. On the ceiling he could see her face, smiling at him. Romano quickly closed his eyes in hopes of not seeing his mother's smile, but it was still there, warm and welcoming. Her auburn hair fell from her face and he could almost smell her flowery scent she wore, the perfume that she sometimes dabbed too much of on.

A loud metal clank stopped his thoughts from going further. His metal bindings had smacked the wall. For once in his life, Romano was grateful for his crippled state. He just didn't want to think of his mother now.

Antonio looked from his pan to see Romano's eyes open. He took the pan off the burner and spooned his food onto a plate. "Good evening, Romano. How did you sleep? Hope it wasn't too crowded."

"I was too tired to notice." Romano replied. He tried to sit up and did after rolling and using the inertia to do so.

"Here. A little food will help. Want some squeezed juice? A lady down the hall was nice enough to offer me some." Romano nodded and Antonio pushed his coffee table closer to the bed before sliding in next to Romano with his own plate of food. There was a small grimace as he watched poor Romano try to feed himself. The bits of food would always shake violently off Romano's fork, landing on the floor or his clothing. Come to think of it, the whole trip over, the two of them had eaten sandwiches; there was no need for silverware. Before that he had never seen Romano eat.

"Let me help you." Antonio offered.

"I can do it. I don't need your help." Romano snapped.

"Half your food is on your shirt, Romano. Something tells me you aren't able to fully feed yourself-"

"Yeah, and so what? The people that used to help me are either dead or in Austria. I need to do it myself. I don't need you and I don't need anybody else. So stop with your damn sympathy."

"Here let me."

"No."

"I'm just going to help you-"

"Fuck off."

"Romano!"

Before Antonio could breath, Romano threw his plate into the nearby wall, food splattering onto it and the floor with the shards. The young man looked at Antonio with a satisfied smirk. Rage began to boil in Antonio's heart, but he took a deep breath.

"Now isn't that a show of childishness, Romano? Did my plate really deserve that?"

"It didn't, but you did. Now leave me the hell alone."

Antonio did just that, taking his plate to the balcony and shutting the door shut. The air was too warm for his liking, it being a summer day, but it was much less stifling than being in the house with Romano. As he stuffed a few pieces of food in his mouth, he just thought. Thought on how he was to take care of Romano. Sure this place was riddled with doctors and that was the last thing Romano probably needed. However, Antonio did plan to have Romano meet with one of his coworkers that night. But should he with how he was acting? This place was full of old people who acted crazy and threw things without reason. The boy would fit in perfectly. All the more reason to not bug the doctor in his spare time.

What was he going to do? Why couldn't get Feliciano instead of Romano? That boy was so nice and caring. Right now if Feliciano were here instead of Romano, he would still be sitting on that bed, probably talking and laughing with that sweet boy. Instead he was stuck with the polar opposite. After two days of Romano, Antonio could feel his goodness starting to slip. He wanted nothing more than to go in there and slam Romano's face into the coffee table repeatedly. But Antonio had spent many years with the old people with dementia and other diseases to lose his grip just yet. The years he had spent at this home had taught him discipline, patience. But Romano wasn't someone old with a memory problem. Romano had a disease, he was sure, but not something that would cause the boy to be struck with mood swings and moments of violence.

He turned toward the door to see Romano picking the food off the wall. Antonio rushed in quickly. "Stop. What are you doing? That food is going to cut your tongue."

"I'm hungry."

"Then have the rest of mine!" Antonio handed the food out to Romano who reached for it only for Antonio to pull away. "Oh no you don't, if you're going to have any of my food it's all going into your chubby little pie whole." Romano glared, Antonio stood firmly. "I'm just asking to let me assist you. You can hold the fork, bringing it to your mouth, but let me steady your hand, Romano. Alright?"

The Spaniard's eyes were pleading, begging the boy to say yes. He got his wish once Romano nodded his head curtly and just once. That's right, Antonio was patient and this place taught him to say whatever the patient wanted to hear. He could even get sane little Romano to listen.

* * *

**Wow I got 6 reviews on the first chapter. That not just one, not two, but SIX! I never have received so many reviews on my first chapter before! Now I forgot to mention, this takes place after World War Two. I'm thinking 1950s era and I am going to try and keep the medical stuff about that era too. It was highly common for people with say polio or any walking condition to get these braces on their legs much like what you saw in the movie Forest Gump. These braces were often drilled into their bones even, which is Romano's case. With that being said, I am going to answer a few reviews on here since my email doesnt show that you guys reviewed... so gotta use this space to do so. Sorry guys! **

** Random white Blob- That's why I put their ages together close enough if we are to walk down that road. This story will start adding up the years fairly quickly. But I really haven't decided if I want to do a full on Romano/Spain romance fic. I got two different ending to this fic in my head. One doesnt end with Spain/Romano as a couple the other does. **

** Yancha Kitsune- Wish granted xD**

** Fortune Maiden- That is what I am worried about. I am not sure if this should be a full on Spain/Romano fic because Spain is raising Romano. Of course in Hetalia I do get the picture Spain did raise Romano and we have all these fics with them together. So torn!**

** Hetalialover180- Thanks, I really did put a lot of thought into the first chapter even though I wrote it in one sitting. Hope you still like.**

** Stellartastic- I don't think they have either thats why I took on this challenge. **

** Mila Mai- Thank you for being my first reviewer! And I do agree that brotherly Spain/Romano is cute too and is why I am still on the fence on which way I am going to go with this in the end.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

When Antonio first met Romano, the first thing that came to his mind was what those crazy Italian doctors did to the poor boy. After a little investigation, he was lead to the overall truth; Romano's parent had long ago stopped looking for a cure to their child's condition. Not that they didn't love Romano, but a small village family in Italy could only visit a doctor so many times before going into total destitution. That, and the news they must have heard more than likely broke their hearts. Their boy was to be crippled for life with little to no hope.

But Antonio was from another country- one with better doctors. On top of all that he lived in a place that was crawling with doctors. There was the doctor he wanted to show Romano, the doctor that had done med school overseas in America. If there was any cure for Romano, Antonio believed it laid in American medicine.

Romano sat at the edge of Antonio's bed, struggling to get his shirt on; the buttons just wouldn't go through their holes. The Spaniard handed the Italian his hair brush before kneeling in front of the boy. "Here, Brush your hair; I'll handle your shirt." Uncharacteristically, Romano didn't kick or scream at Antonio for helping, he silently ran his brush through his locks. The boy winced as his hands shook violently to pull a few knots viciously.

Together they removed Romano's food stricken pants and placed fresh ones at his feet. Romano situated himself upwards and Antonio pulled the pants to the boy's hips and began to fasten the button. He received a harsh thwack on his fingers and he looked up at the boy in shock.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, ya damn pervert?" Romano hissed, face beet red.

Antonio didn't want to start a fight so he put his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright, they're all yours to button, mi amigo." This caused Romano to grumble, but after a minute of trying the boy got the button snapped and his fly zipped.

The frustrated young man took his spot in his wheel chair and Antonio pushed him out of his tiny apartment back to the old elevator. They were taken one floor up and continued to Antonio's doctor friend's apartment. He knocked on a door halfway down the hall once before hearing someone unchaining and unlocking of the door.

The blonde haired and green eyed man frowned at Antonio's appearance, "You're back from Italy already? Forget it, Antonio. I'm not looking at any patients this time of the day." Romano bristled at the words that were said in a heavy German accent.

"Yes I just got back this morning, Vash. Uh, and this little one here isn't exactly a patient." He patted Romano's shoulders comfortingly only for the brat to shrug him away. The Swiss cocked an eyebrow slightly, not really interested in what Romano was. "He's sorta… uh my adoptive son." Antonio laughed as he rubbed his head and laughed nervously. "So if you can take it in your heart to see him, I'd be grateful enough to take a few hard cases off your hands tomorrow." Antonio bargained well.

Inside Vash's head, he began to weigh the deal. If he didn't have troublesome patients on his hands, he could see more people, and more people meant more money, and by the gods he loved money. "Wheel him in." Vash said with a slightly less hostile tone.

"I don't want to see a doctor, Antonio." Romano began to fuss in his chair.

"Shh. Romano, be polite." Antonio whispered in a hushed tone.

"I said no damn it!" Romano said loud enough to call Vash's attention.

"Romano, stop being a brat. He's only going to help you-"

"No! What he's going to do is repeat the same old news that I have heard all my life. This is a waste of time."

From inside, Vash lit a cigarette and took in a deep inhale before exhaling to ask, "And what is it that you have been told all your life?"

"That I can't walk, I'll never be able to write- that I will be damned to this chair for the life of a cripple!" Romano snapped at the American trained doctor.

Vash got out a pen and paper, "Is that so?" Vash said with his light cigarette bobbing up and down. "You know, since you have been here I haven't seen one thing that says you can't walk or live a normal life. Antonio, bring him here."

The Spaniard wheeled him in, wanting nothing more than to paddle the little monster who stared across at the doctor with condescension. "What's your name?"

"Romano."

"_Your full name._"

"Lovino Romano Vagras."

"Well Herr Lovino-"

"Romano."

Vash cocked an eyebrow at Romano, "I will call you by your first name, for that is what your parents intended you to be called."

"_My Parents!_" Romano shouted as he tried to stand up but was quickly shoved down by Antonio.

"Please call him Romano, Vash. His father was called Lovino, who just passed away recently." The sweet man bargained with the gruff Swiss.

Vash inhaled deeply on his cigarette, "You two are a pain in my ass. Fine. I will call him 'Romano' but if, in the future, I chose to call him something else, even if it's a 'Stubborn Donkey', I will not hear any protests from either of you."

"Right.

"Whatever you damn yodeler."

"Right. So to get to the bottom of this, what the hell is wrong with you?" Vash spoke not even looking at Romano.

"Isn't it obvious; I'm confined to a chair."

"Why are you confined to a chair?"

"Because I shake too much to stand properly."

"Is that why you have braces?"

"What do you think?"

"If I told you what I think, I think you wouldn't like it." Vash answered sternly.

"_Yes! Because I shake too damn much!_" Romano exploded, his shaking habit becoming worse with his rage. Romano tried to calm his body down, clenching and unclenching his hands. Vash seemed to take notice quite quickly.

"Would you say you're frustrated right now, Herr Romano?"

"Of course I'm frustrated! I'm stuck talking to some German potato eating pansy, who is going to give me the same bullshit that I have been dished my whole life! Antonio- I wish to leave."

"Romano…"

"Calm down," The Swiss said passively. "Have you always had the shakes?"

There was a pause; a very long pause. "Yes."

"Is that a lie?"

"Even it was," Romano hissed gripping his chair and snarling out at the doctor. "You wouldn't know, now would you?" The young man let out a laugh that didn't sound healthy. "What's perfect about this situation is whatever I say you'll have to believe me because neither one of you knows me."

Antonio felt a bad taste in his mouth at Romano's words; oh so true words. Sitting there he felt as if he made a mistake.

"Do you even care whether or not you're confined to a chair?" Vash asked Romano rather nonchalantly. The exact words Antonio was beginning to ask himself. Maybe this was all just one great big mistake.

"Shut up! Antonio, I want to leave!" Antonio was up and ready to leave but-

"Antonio, step aside." The Spaniard looked like he was thrown in the middle of traffic. He licked his lips nervously trying to decide. "It will only be for a moment, I swear. Then you both may leave." Antonio complied much with Romano's disgust.

"Way to be a 'dad', you cha cha'ing bast-" Vash kicked Romano's wheel chair, causing the boy to go flying across the room and crashing into the wall. Upon the collusion, Romano was rocketed from his chair face first.

"What the hell was that for?" Antonio shouted as he rushed to Romano's side. The boy was bleeding from his lip as he pushed Antonio away with a force that knocked the man on his own ass. The glare of Romano's yellow eyes was hot enough to melt a metal pan.

Vash, to the both of them, seemed like the devil. But the young doctor had spotted something. The image of Romano rocketing backwards in his chair, his arms flailing about in big graceful, flapping motion. Both of his legs jutted out in a motion that only healthy legs would have ever allowed. The Swiss stood and walked up to Romano, just out of reach so the swings Romano threw never connected.

"Tell me, what were you told in Italy? Did they say you had polio? Huntington's disease, maybe? A neurological mystery?" Romano flinched at the last one, confirming one of his guesses. "You have a severe case of Chorea. Now get out."

"Chorea!" Antonio shouted up from his spot on the floor. "That doesn't make any sense; Romano shouldn't be this bad if he just simply had chorea. That doesn't tell us what is causing the chorea!"

"What the hell is chorea?" Romano tried to ask but was silenced.

"What is causing his chorea lays with Romano to answer." He smoked another cigarette. "I would like to spend the rest of my night relaxing and listening to the radio. I have given you the correct diagnosis. Do what you please with the knowledge, but please get out."

Romano was slung back into his seat and Antonio glared at the Swiss but thanked him, for that was the polite thing to do. Vash swung the door practically in their faces.

"What the hell is chorea?" Romano demanded once more as Antonio began to push him down the hall.

"A neurological disorder. Not curable, but manageable. Pray to god my friend, and you'll be walking soon."

Romano slumped in his chair with his arms crossed as they wheeled up to the elevator. "I've done enough praying to god." He muttered.

Antonio smiled sadly at him, "Indeed you have."

* * *

**Ugh yay I got to this point which from here on the story will pick up. So I know I have updated a lot these past few days, I decided to give you this update because I will be busy until Friday. So this is going to have to tide you over. I am sorry if this wasn't as good as the previous two chapter's but I play to repay you all with chapter 4. I have it very planned out and I am very pleased with it myself. And yet still my email is still being gay soooo gonna answer reviews here until I get it fixed. Also thank you for so many review. I don't know what to do with myself with so many!  
**

** youaremarvelous- Thank you. I hope that by writing this that many authors on here that are fantastic writers might take up this same challenge as I have. I was really surprised that from the many Spain/Romano fics that I have read, none of them talk about Romano having choreia, I mean talk about plot device worthy! **

** KichiMiangra- Thanks for the review and here's the next chapter xD**

** SaxyMisty- I think I am coming to a decision, one that should satisfy both of my arguments. How am I going to do that? Well you're all going to have to sit here and read!/evil cackle  
**

** PurinFuurin- Thank you glad you liked it!**

** .- Yes it does, but we'll see!**

** Hetalialover180- Thanks!**

**Fortune Maiden- Yeah the people I take care of are brats like Romano at times, which helps me write Spain. A lot of the time I found myself in a closet and screaming my head off.**

**Mila Mai- Sadly the two different endings would have to branch off mid story.. if there IS a way to combine them into one story where at the end I can have ending 1 and ending 2, I'd so do it in a heartbeat. Which I just might do..!**

**Also I thought I should add before you all go, if any of you would like to beta or perhaps drop idea for me to consider into this plot, please dont be afraid to drop me a pm. It would be greatly appreciated. Even though I am an author (or so says this website) keeping things new and fresh and the story moving is a hard thing to do. You and your ideas will help this story keep a nice finesse imo. Until next week, bye!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"_What's the matter, Romano?" cooed a motherly voice. _

_Romano sat in a miniature rocking chair in front of the stove with a confused look on his face. It broke into to fear instantly as he saw his mother's bright loving face. On his lap was a dark wet spot and cup that had slipped from his tiny fingers. _

"_Oh Romano, I just sewed those!" His mother chided as she removed the empty glass and pulled her son to his feet. _

"_I'm sorry."_

"_How in the world did you manage to spill your milk in your lap?" She hissed impatiently as she dabbed her apron on the wet spot, hoping to get some of the milk residue out. _

"_I'm sorry, mama, I don't know." Romano replied on the brink of tears. "I swear I didn't do it on purpose."_

"_Romano?" Her face softened up instantly. This wasn't her boy... Romano never cried even when a bee stung him. "What's the matter? Are you crying because I'm angry?" _

_Romano shook his head, but the tears kept falling. "No mama… I'm sorry." He repeated to be apologetic._

"_Oh honey, what's the matter?" She pulled her son into a hug. "You can tell me what's wrong, Romano." Her child trembled and shook in her arm; the tears kept falling. "Romano… Romano… My little Romano…" She cooed, trying to get him to stop crying, to stop shaking. But the little boy never stopped. _

"Ah! You're awake, Romano!" Antonio's cheerful voice was the first thing to greet Romano that morning. His lip was swollen and bruised from that Swiss from hell. The lump stuck out heavily, giving Romano an even more displeased look. "Wow, that looks bad." Antonio pointed out the obvious before placing finger food in front of the disgruntled young man.

From his first encounter with Romano, Antonio had already learned to serve the boy things he could eat with his hands. This made Antonio sigh slightly, for he really did love cold soup on hot summer days. Changing his diet was one of the many things that needed to be altered for his new charge.

Romano didn't seem to mind as he picked at his plate, not looking or saying a word to the Spaniard. "Listen, mi amigo. I have some clients to tend to today. Is that alright with you?"

Shrug.

"Good! Glad you're understanding. By the way, I'm sending someone up about noon to check up on you."

"Another damn stranger? Is he going to kick my chair like the last psycho?" Romano grumbled bitterly.

"I have already stated how sorry I am about that, Romano! Are you going to hold this over my head forever? Yes? No Romano- I am sorry!" Antonio half wailed as Romano lifted his plate. However, the boy placed it on his lap and continued eating. The action was the only reply, for Romano remained silent, not caring how sorry that man was. "Right well, you should like this stranger. She's a cute girl! About your age-"

Another plate of food bit the dust as Romano jerked, dumping all of its contents on the floor. "Son of a bitch!" The Italian swore.

Antonio sighed, getting on his hands and knees to pick up the food. "It's alright. I got some more in the fridge." Another life lesson Antonio was learning quickly. Make extra food in case accidents appeared. "As I was saying, she's really a sweet girl. She usually just hands out the meals to the patients here. But I convinced her to use her spare time to keep you company-"

"What did you bribe her with?" Romano spat.

"Nothing." Antonio blinked, not sure what he had said so wrong to get the heatedly angry look from his care. "I promise you, you'll like her! No one can hate sweet Lily!"

"I can! I hate girls!"

"How can any boy your age hate girls?"

"They're always mean to me. Always giggling how I shake and can't walk."

"Lily is a sweetheart! She would never do such a thing."

"I don't believe you!"

"My god, Romano! You are so hard to please!" Antonio gasped exasperated. He grabbed the last of the soiled food before Romano could kick him. "Listen, if she is mean to you, tell her to leave. But she's coming here today like it or not. And that's final." Antonio stated flatly.

"I don't need a babysitter! I'm fifteen and crippled! Not retarded!"

"Yes, you're fifteen and crippled. You need company Romano. It's not healthy to be a loner." Antonio chided from the kitchen.

"I've been alone all my life!"

"You need to change that, mi amigo."

"No I don't!"

"Yes you do."

"Che- Like you know what's best for me ya tomato eating bastard."

Antonio slammed the new plate of food in front of Romano. A deep frown graced his face, before leaving the coffee table for the door and his coat. "Where are you going?"

"To work."

"Fine; whatever."

"See you tonight." Antonio tried to say as nicely as possible.

The door shut quietly and Romano was alone.

It was an eerie feeling, being alone. Despite what he had said, Romano had never been _truly_ alone. His mother, father, or little brother was always around. The sound of his family surrounded him, silence never truly existed. But now it did. Now it did…

Romano didn't budge from his spot on the bed. His shoulders slumped and his eyes remained glued on the very spot he had been looking at when Antonio had left for work. Knots seemed to tighten his stomach, and an unappeasable lump formed in Romano's throat. He swallowed, trying to work it out, but instead, his eyes began to sting. Yet the boy did not cry. No, he let that bitter feeling sink in, Romano let it wash over his. From roots of his hair to the tips of his toes, Romano was numb with emptiness.

It was as if his lost family stole his senses when they left him.

"_Romano, what's the matter?" His sweet mother's apparition seemed to ask him from a faraway corner. _

He didn't reply.

"_Do you miss Feli, Romano? Oh don't cry; he'll be back from school soon."_

He remained silent.

"_Romano why don't you sing me something? Sing me that American song, Romano. You have such a nice voice."_

His teeth grit, but he remained soundless.

"_Do you want me to start? In Napoli where love is king, when boy meets girl here's what they say…"_

"When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie. That's amore. When the world seems to shine like you've had too much wine. That's amore. Bells will ring ting-a-ling-a-ling, ting-a-ling-a-ling. And you'll sing "Vita bella". Hearts will play tippy-tippy-tay, tippy-tippy-tay..." Romano's voice filled the small, foreign apartment, with a loud strong voice. "When the stars make you drool just like a pasta fazool. That's amore-"

Knock Knock Knock.

Romano's voice screeched at the last note, a blush graced his cheeks at the thought of someone hearing him sing. Three more knocks followed and Romano found himself holding his breath, trying to bring forth an illusion that he wasn't there.

"Herr Romano? Are you there?" A cute small voice floated in from behind the door. "Herr Romano, Antonio sent me. My name is Lily. I am coming in, I am sorry to intrude."

Romano hissed at her words, sitting up straight and trying to flatten his morning hairdo. The door swung open revealing a tiny girl in a simple black dress with an apron tied tightly around her slim waist. Two long plaits of braids framed her neck. She looked at him with meek eyes. Lily chewed her bottom lip unsure about the situation.

"Hello Romano. Was that you that I heard singing? You have a really wonderful voice." She commented as the door shut behind her.

"Yeah, it was." Romano muttered.

"That was Dean Martin wasn't it? I hear he's all the rage in America. Ah! May I sit next to you?"

Romano scooted, trying to hide his shaky limbs as he moved. But Lily already knew, and she smiled sweetly at him, Romano found himself feeling quite uncomfortable with that smile. "Well, when should we start?" Lily asked, trying to overcome the silence Romano seemed to reverently believe in.

"What do you mean start?"

"The chores Herr Antonio left me. Let's see, cook you both lunch and dinner," she began to name things off her fingers. "Bathe you, dress you, take you outside for at least one hour-"

"_Bathe me!_" Romano shouted, his fists shaking in rage. "I am not going to be bathed by a girl!"

"But Herr Romano, Antonio said you are unable to bathe yourself-"

"Like that bastard ever tried! I have been bathing myself since I was two. I don't need your help!"

"Well Romano, I hate to be rude, but you really do need to bathe."

"I'll bathe when I want to!"

"But Herr Antonio stated you are to bathe today."

"Fine! I'll bathe but you aren't doing it for me!" Romano blushed furiously.

Lily nodded fervently, he own blush lessen on her cheeks some. She looked at him with pure determination and for such a mousey thing, Romano found her sort of cute. Sort of.

"What's your name again?" Romano asked.

"Lily Liechtenstein." she stated softly.

The ridiculous name caused Romano to let out a hearty laugh, one he hadn't laughed in a long time. "Lily Liechtenstein! Man could you have any more stupid of a name."

Lily down caster her eyes, embarrassed. "W-what's your name?" she managed to stutter.

"Lovino Romano Vargas." Romano stated proudly.

"Pleasure to meet you," she whispered.

"Hey what's wrong? Is it 'cause I said you name sounds stupid?" There was no answer. "Well it does. I'm not going to lie. But if it makes you feel any better my little brother has the most ridiculous name in the world. Want to hear it?"

She nodded.

"Feliciano Veneziano Vargas."

"You're right, that is a dumb name." She giggled softly.

Romano joined her. After a few moments of mirth, Romano added. "Listen, I'm sorry that I said your name is stupid. I need to learn to be more polite to girls."

"It's alright, Herr Romano."

"Romano, just call me Romano."

* * *

**I'm not too happy with this chapter. But that is mainly because if I packed this all with the stuff I wanted to, this chapter would have doubled if not tripled in length. I know that there are a lot of people that will instantly get turned off by a long chapter so I decided to cut this off here. Now a lot of you are probably going, "Zomg did she just turn this into a Romano/Liechtenstein fic?" Well to answer that, yes and no. If you would like to go down that road, the possibility is there. However, most of you are like me and uber Spain/Romano fans. Now if all of a sudden we all change our minds on who Romano is going to fall for cuz of this chapter or future chapters let me now and when we get to the decision point I will decide on which way we're gonna swing.**

**Furthermore, thank you all for every review that was sent. I really appreciated it and I replied to most of them. If you did not receive a reply I am deeply sorry. Since this might be a long wait again because of homework piling up again, I will give you all a small insight on what is going on next chapter. Romano spends time with Lily and his first lesson with Antonio starts.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Romano came out of the bath smelling like roses. To his embarrassment, Lily had to help him out of the tub, but not before he had a towel secured around his waist tightly. And before Romano's hair was even dry, he was outside in the back of the tall building. Residing, hidden from the city around them was a small garden. Paths twisted and turned with tall bushes lining them. If they couldn't hear the hustle and bustle of Madrid, they would have believed they were in a castle's garden.

The air was hot, but Romano didn't mind. He usually would complain, for the sun always heated his metal braces making his legs uncomfortable. But Lily Liechtenstein seemed to keep him calm with her never ending quiet patience. She wasn't like that damn Spaniard, who pushed and prodded him constantly. No; he was comfortable with her, and Romano hadn't been comfortable with anyone in such a long time.

"So Romano, do you like to sing?" Lily asked.

The Italian shrugged, "Not really. My mother loved to hear me sing. She said that I could sing the wings off an angel. Whatever that means."

"Well you're very good." Lily commented as she pushed him up and down the garden paths. "I know how to play the violin. Maybe one day you and I could perform a duet."

"Not with Antonio around, no thanks." Romano huffed.

"Oh why not? I think Antonio is very sweet."

Romano frowned. She was right. Antonio _was_ sweet. The fact he took Romano in was proof enough for that. But something just bugged him about Antonio… And he couldn't place it. "Yeah, well… You don't have to live with him."

"You have only been here for a few days." Lily pointed out gently.

"Yeah, and in that time I have been almost starved, attacked by a psychotic German doctor, and not to mention left with a girl." He smiled slyly at her, but all she did was blink as if she were too deep in thought to notice his flirtatious voice. However, something didn't seem right about flirting with Lily at all. Something unnatural…

"You said a German doctor?" She questioned out of the blue as the turned down yet another corner.

Romano nodded. "Yeah he gave me this." He pointed to his bruised lip.

"Did he have blonde hair?"

"Yeah." Romano answered losing interest quickly.

"That man is my brother." Lily admitted.

"You're brother should be put in a home." Romano huffed indignantly.

Lily laughed gently. "Well he is the best doctor in all of Madrid. He did diagnose even you, _ja?"_

"_Ja_," Romano mocked her yes before adding. "And he still should be sent to a home."

"Well that's not very nice!" Lily said with an umpf as she pushed his wheelchair faster, haphazardly turning a few corners as if she were some race driver. "So will you perform a duet with me?" Lily asked once again as they returned to the steps of the home.

"If it gets you to not do that again!" Romano snapped, shakily.

"Deal."

She parked him under the shade of a tree. Lily was small and petit but must have had the thigh muscles of a speed skater, for she lifted Romano from his chair and lowered him to the ground so they could both lean against its thick trunk, enjoying the summer breeze. They both looked at the clouds passing by, naming them childishly after the shapes they vaguely represented. Romano liked it. Nothing was more important than peacefulness to the Italian. And after what he had been through that month, he was glad for his company with Lily.

After thirty minutes of just lounging around, the girl yawned and stretched slightly. "So, Romano. Where are you from? Italy-correct?"

"Yeah, I was born in Southern Italy but we moved north while my mother was pregnant with my little brother. The small town we lived in was… okay." He stated the last part dryly.

"I've heard that Northern Italy is very lovely. I'm from Switzerland; I followed my brother here for a job and medical training a year ago. It's been lonely being away from my mother and father. But… if I start early then I can hopefully achieve my goals." Romano nodded as he kept his amber eyes on the dense clouds that kept passing them by, gathering. "Do you have any?" Lily whispered after a few moments of silence.

"Have any what?"

"Goals in life, silly."

The young man's eyes seemed to glaze over at the thought. His jaw went slack for a moment. Did he have goals? Should someone like him have goals?

"_Romano… you can do anything as long as you put your mind to it." _His mothers sweet voice seem to echo in his mind. Her amber hair brushed the tip of his shoulders, as her loving hug gripped him. _"Why don't you go play with little Feli?"_

"I-I don't think someone like me should hope for much." Romano said shakily more to his mother than to really Lily.

The little Germanic girl looked at him still, as if she had been addressed. "Why's that?"

"_Don't you see that I love you, Romano? If I can love you, then surely another will follow. Now go join Feli." _

"Because I can't… do things. I always fuck up." Romano choked.

"_Don't say those things Romano… I love you."_

"_Fratello… come play with me. We'll play cops and robbers."_

"Romano, are you alright?" Lily asked placing her small hand on his. Her surprisingly cool tips brought him back. He locked his sad eyes with hers. "I think my brother could cure you, if you let him." Lily whispered.

"Maybe. If pigs fly." Romano leaned back closing his eyes.

The dark image replaced the back of his eyelids. Blood soaked hair replaced the soft amber hair that had brushed his shoulders. Contorted fingers, bones jutting through the skin making inhuman shapes, brushed his cheeks. The pat pat pat of a liquid dripped onto his face. Looking up Romano saw the bashed in visage of his mother, smiling that twisted soft smile. The torn muscles pulled her practically torn off jaw upwards, her deep set amber eyes bore into his soul.

"_Why didn't you run, Romano?"_

Romano jerked his eyes open, to see that the clouds that had been gathering were dark and angry. Fat drops of rain were beating down on them. Lily was already standing, getting Romano's chair ready. Two shaky fingers swept over his damp cheek. He pulled them away, noting the clear mixture he had swept away. Romano let out a shaky breath. A breath that matched his rapid heartbeat, and the jerking of his legs.

* * *

Antonio finished up his lessons with a handful of cognitive residents. He felt exasperated. Most of that morning had been spent trying to get them to focus. But that morning breakfast had been late, so the old people had been full of fuss. Standing on the tips of his toes, Antonio bowed his back backwards, making several spinal columns pop in relief.

It was long past noon and the balls of his feet hurt immensely. However, his day was just getting ready now that the old people's activities were done for the day. Any moment, Lily would be wheeling in his little Romano. That young man wouldn't be full of joy as he firmly predicted. A small amount of him felt sorry for leaving the brat in the sweet Swiss girl's hands.

As if on cue, she wheeled the boy in on time. Romano was glaring at him, not one ounce of him had forgiven Antonio for the fat lip that supported that crippled boy's face. Lily curtsied and left shyly, only pausing for a moment to say goodbye to Romano, who huffed up to her like a displeased cat. Oh dear lord, where did this boy learn his manors for the womenfolk?

"Why am I here ya Spanish bastard?" Romano spat with his usual flare.

Antonio let out a sigh, ready for World War III with his new care. "We're going to do some leg exercises." Antonio said simply, not really wanting to go into detail. The more detail, the more that boy would inevitably argue.

"What are you drunk? Why would we do that?"

"We're going to get you walking properly."

"Fuck off."

"I thought you would say that…" Antonio sighed in dismay. The Spaniard walked over to a closet opening it without a word. He could virtually feel Romano's eyes burning at his back with a glare. His hands went through racks of different restraints the home used, looking for the proper one for Romano. In the back he located the right choice, picking a two harness device. Walking out he slung it over his shoulder before walking over to a bell.

"What the hell is that? What are you going to do with me you psychotic pervert?" Romano hissed, trying to stand from his chair in a blind fit of rage. Antonio didn't even bother to answer the foul tempered child, pushed the button to the bell instead. A nurse entered in a white get up quietly to Romano's dismay.

"Oh hello, Miss Martinez, I need to get this harness on that boy over there. Think you can help me wrestle it on him?" Antonio said brightly as if he was about to eat cake and not fight.

She nodded saying something Romano couldn't make out, for the blood had rushed to his ears as his rage boiled over. "Don't you dare fucking touch me! I'll let the Edelstein's know about this! And they'll have you arrested I swear to fricken god!"

Antonio kept a calm face as he encroached closer to the boy. Romano felt his heart hammer away; he wanted to flee; he wanted to walk up and punch that Spaniard in the face; he wanted to move. But his jerking legs, his just as uncooperative arms fought him. Romano couldn't move from his chair and they were getting closer.

His sharp skinny elbow flew at Antonio's stomach, but the man must have foreseen the act, for Romano strike air. His hip were jerked from behind by the nurse, once again the boy striked, but this time Antonio was blocking his blows from ever connecting with the woman below. To his horror, the harness was wrapped firmly around his skinny legs and jutting hips. The world seemed to spin as Romano was twirled around and more commotion happened. The next thing he knew, he was harnessed to his damn surrogate father.

"_Why can't you just leave me alone?_" Romano roared at the top of his lungs.

"Shh… Romano calm down." Antonio cooed into his ear like he would an angered dementia old man. But the problem was Romano _was_ sane.

"_No! Let me go! I want to go back to Italy and live on the streets than be here with you_!"

"I just want to help you." Antonio said calmly.

"_I never asked for your help!_" Romano tried to elbow Antonio, but the older man had the position over him. His blows were nothing or prevented.

"Miss Martinez, take his chair away." Antonio said evenly. It was done; Romano was left in the hands of Antonio. The boy's body leaned heavily into the others, his legs trembled, the weight, the stress; it was too much.

Almost as if Romano was a puppet, Antonio dragged him over to the dancers' bar. "Grab hold." The voice was soft in Romano's ear. Too soft for his comfort. "Take the bar." The voice ordered slightly more abrasive.

Romano did as he was told mainly because his legs felt as if there were on fire. How long had he been standing?

"Now we're going to take small side steps. Watch me and try to imitate." One foot moved out fluidly. "Now move yours." Antonio whispered softly. The mirror revealed his green eyes boring into Romano's; they were soft yet demanding, loving yet controlling. A few tears rolled down the boys cheeks. Partially from the pain that was surging from his calves to his thighs and now his lower back, but somewhat from being forced. "You can do it, now. Come on Romano." Antonio murmured.

Slowly the boy took his right foot, the foot jerked, it fought; it kicked the glass in front of Romano, swung back and even nailed Antonio a few times. But he still managed to take a side step. Together, they took Romano's first side step. The pain was unimaginable, but those green eyes kept smiling, those lips kept a warm smile. And maybe, just maybe, Romano felt accomplished.

* * *

**Okay so I now officially know which path I'm going to beating down officially. /throws a party. Sadly I wanted to add something at the end of this chapter but I've decided I'm gonna hold for one more chapter til Switzerland makes another appearance! I really wish I could update more than once a week. But yeah you know how school can be... busy and life sucking. So look for once a week updates. Even though I am really satisfied with this chapter, I would really like to hear on what I need to improve (besides grammar I already know this xD) I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I loved writing this. Also yes there is a reason Romano is remembering or hearing his mother. He's not insane dont worry, not going for that angle. But yeah it falls into the plot. This should be the last time he does that for a few chapters. Anyways rambling... Thanks for the reviews if I didnt get to reply!  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

His legs shook uncontrollably; they jerked without his command, making him look like a bow legged new born trying to stand for the first time. The only thing that kept Romano from falling was his iron clench of the dancer bar. The pain of pure exhaustion was spreading through his whole body and he had to keep his teeth clenched to stifle the painful cry Romano wished to let rip out of his throat.

The reflection in the mirror was discomforting. Romano's arms were taunt from his weight leaning back and he was in a half squatting position. The beads of sweat were pouring from his brow profusely, leaving wet sticky clothing clinging to his body. His hair resembled a rat's nest with that unflattering curl of his bobbing dejectedly to the side.

It had been two months since Romano had left Italy. Since then Antonio had forced him to work out in dance studio each day. Even on the hottest of days, much like the heat he was experiencing now. People shouldn't work this hard in August heat, Romano at least believed.

"Focus Romano." Antonio coached.

Romano glared at the man's reflection in the mirror. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Focus Romano, focus! If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he _was_ focusing. In fact, he was focusing so hard, his teeth were about to crack from the grit. Not to mention he was fighting every jerk and woe of his legs so he didn't fall to the ground in an iron human heap.

God, his legs hurt.

"Come on Romano you can do it. Stand up straight. You did it perfectly yesterday." Spain credited softly.

Romano rolled his eyes, "Except you seem to forget I was harnessed to you." he muttered darkly.

"Mi hermano, this is no different."

"Easier said than done, ya damn tomato picking fu-"

"Language, Romano!" Antonio interrupted as quickly as the crack of the whip. "You can do it." he added quickly.

Romano's heart was beating erratically. Trying to calm his nerves, he looked at himself in the mirror. He couldn't stand, Romano already knew this. Why was he even trying? Why did he even allow Antonio to push him? It was obvious he had no desire to try… So why was he even here?

Stand Romano.

An order that sounded so simple, yet had the weight to crush the very being of the boy. A fear gripped the walls of his veins, making them constrict and bring a numbing feeling to his whole body. Every fiber of him was begging him to not straighten his legs and back, they too were gripped with fear. But if Romano didn't stand, he would be stuck on this bar for eternity. At that very moment Romano wanted nothing more to do than collapse and cry.

He was worthless and a coward. No sane man would be afraid of such a simple task. But Romano was. Nothing was going to change that. Silently in his own memory he could hear the noise of the multiple children who had laughed at his condition. Even his own brother had joined them, his father; all of them except his dear mother. They were faceless monsters, waiting to devour Romano as soon as he failed. Failed at such a simple task as standing.

Tightening his grip on the bar, Romano took in the most level breaths. No, he wasn't going to allow them to laugh at him anymore. Death would come before Romano allowed them laugh again.

"I'm not worthless." Romano said firmly but clearly to get Antonio's attention. Antonio flinched as he saw Romano's reflection. His eyes gleamed with a hint of insanity, if it wasn't form the firm constitution his mouth held, Antonio would have been convinced the boy had finally snapped. But it had been the most serious he had ever seen his counterpart. It entailed a miracle; Antonio just knew it.

Romano moved his right leg first, firmly under his actual weight, the leg tried to wobble away, but Romano stamped down that leg, shifting a good amount of his weight onto that disobedient leg of his, gluing it in position. He did the same with his left, which was more obedient than the right; it took the other half of his weight, shaking only minutely. Gritting his teeth out and letting out a few cries of pain and frustration, Romano focused, trying to keep his body correct. Slowly, he began to stand, his left arm jerking from its leverage, sending poor Romano forward, his chin smartly connecting with the bar.

He could hear Antonio approaching him, but snapped, "Stay back!" and so Antonio did.

Moving his arm back he clenched the bar to the point his hand felt as if he was clenching his ligaments from his bones and muscles. Romano looked at himself once more; the determination was written on his face, but he closed his eyes, his features softening as he gave a silent prayer. Then slowly, he could feel his head lifting from the bar soaring higher and higher. His tense back straightened his knees and ankles began to feel weightless as his legs and center of gravity shifted upwards. Romano snapped his eyes open. He was standing. Quickly he removed his hands. His body was balancing. In mirror he looked like the average Joe standing in line at the market place. There was no hint of shaking…

Then, everything was lost in a snap. Romano collapsed, pain ripping through his legs. He rocked himself back and forth, gripping for both of his tibias. Two warm hands pulled him back from doing so. White pain began to ripple like waves.

"What the fuck!" Romano screeched.

"Shhh…Romano hold still." Antonio said softly as he stroked Romano's sweat drenched hair.

Romano obeyed, in too much pain to really argue. His eyes glued themselves on the blinking light that Antonio had activated to call for help. It silently flashed as he felt the soft Spaniard hands stroke and stroke his hair. It was soothing. His eyes slipped closed, his body devoid of any adrenaline. Romano slipped off, his head being shifted into Antonio's lap, the hair stroking never ceasing.

The last thought Romano processed wasn't the pain, but how proud he was. He stood; Romano had stood on his own two feet properly and straight like a real person. There had been no leaning on an object; his legs hadn't been bow-legged and squatting. _Pride._ Romano had felt pride in the first time in ages. Sleep enveloped him.

* * *

The Swiss doctor inhaled heavily on his cigarette as he examined the unconscious Romano's x-rays. His brows were knit in annoyance. Was Antonio stupid? Clearly these leg braces were too small for Romano. Now look! The boy's legs were riddled with stress fractures. What type of moron does that to a growing child?

He tossed the images onto his desk with slight disgust. His chair scooted with a loud squeal before he grabbed his doctor's jacket and went outside where the sleeping Romano and Antonio waited for him. But first, he distinguished his current mostly smoked cigarette and put a brand new one in between his lips. God knew he was a smoker, but not a chain smoker. However, Antonio's antics of the day certainly were making him want a cigarette gripped in his lips every moment of the day.

Vash strolled in with a look of indifference. Antonio half stood but was stopped by the weight of the boy's head in his lap. Comically, Antonio was torn between standing for Vash out of respect and keeping Romano comfortable. Vash wasn't in the mood so he just signaled Antonio to sit down. Gratefully, the Spaniard sat, brushing a few strands that had slipped onto Romano's face during his commotion.

"He has roughly twelve stress fractures." Swiss said through his cigarette. Antonio flinched, diverting his gaze to his dancer's shoes. "When I diagnosed Romano, I did not mean for you to go and push him until his legs snapped."

"That's not what I meant to do, Vash. I swear it!"

Vash sighed. He knew Antonio wasn't a terrible man; he was trying to help the boy, not cripple him more. "It's not all your fault. Those braces probably haven't been properly adjusted in two years. It was an accident waiting to happen. But…" Vash slipped his hand into his pocket pulling out a pack of cigarettes. "You are trying to make a newborn run before he can walk. Want one?" He offered.

"No thank you. And what do you mean? Are you saying that I have started in the wrong spot?" Antonio questioned weakly.

Vash nodded lazily. "You should have consulted me before starting any treatment on Romano. You're a dancer and a helper around this facility, not a physical therapist."

"I know, you're right. It's just…"

"That kid is a jackass I know." Antonio flinched on the bluntness of his words. A few minutes ticked by and only the sound of Vash's cigarette crackling when inhaled upon resounded through the room. Even Romano seemed to sleep in utter silence.

"What would you have me do?"

"Start by strengthening his muscles. As he is, well that's not going to leave many options for Romano. Though perhaps after a few weeks rest, he can start exercising in the pool. That is where you should have begun."

"I see."

"Also I am going to send Lily up. He is not going to be happy when he wakes. His life will be pain for the next few months."

This entailed a very grumpy, bitter Romano without a doubt. Antonio didn't look forward to that at all. So having little Lily helping him was a godsend.

"We might as well go; nothing more I can do. Just give him Tylenol throughout the day. Don't let him out of bed for the next week."

Antonio scooped up the tall boy in his arms with discomfort; the metal braces biting into his skin. Vash graciously opened his door and Antonio filed out.

"Oh, and Antonio." The Spanish dancer turned to face the Swiss doctor. "I think it would be best we remove those braces.

Antonio nodded and turned to leave once more. Romano was not going to like that news.

* * *

**Im soooooo sorry this was super short. As you can see we skipped a few months yay. And time for a little clearing up. The reason Romano didn't really feel his legs in pain is because of adrenaline. Because his braces were too short the pulled on his bones that they were welded into. Antonio didn't know this so this is the result. Or something... yeah this is my thinking prolly not accurate at all!**

**Anyways thanks for the reviews guys greatly appreciate it. Be prepared for a foul mouth Romano next chapter. Poor Spain is gonna get it! Also some of you may be like wheres the Spain/Romano in this? Well its coming... its coming... **


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Pain and lots of it. That's all Romano knew as his exhausted body slept away. Even in his dreams he could feel the dull pain of his aching legs. It was as if some cruel human was taking a knife to his skin, flaying it back before drilling holes into his very bones. Romano wanted to wake up, to scream loudly. But all he could do was curl up in a ball and cry.

In the dream world, the young man could feel more than physical pain. Loneliness crept out from the black shadows of his thoughts. Hugging and tugging Romano. He was worthless, he had no family; he was stupid; he was doomed to be alone, to die alone. No girl would ever look his way, no man either. Alone he would die, and the only people who would attend his funeral would be a priest and the two grave diggers, and if Romano was truly unfortunate, the maggots that had began to feast on his long dead body as well.

"_Mom." _The call tore from his lips, echoing out into the nothingness. _"Mom please! come back! I swear I'll be better! Please!"_

Tears rolled down his face, each tear felt hot like fire.

"_I'm not ready to be alone!"_

"_Romano…"_

"_Romano."_

"Romano."

The said Italian managed to open his amber eyes to see green ones. Lying next to him in the same bed was Antonio. The sheets on Romano's side of the bed were wrapped tightly around the boy, leaving Antonio with nothing. But it didn't matter, no matter how hot Romano's legs felt from having constricting material slowly baking his legs in the hot stuffy night. What matter was the dawning knowledge Romano was receiving. All he had was Antonio. He hated that.

Romano let out a dry sob his hands wrapping themselves in his hair. Quicker than lightning, Antonio wrapped his sweaty arms around Romano's even sweatier body, pulling him close to his chest.

"Shh…Romano. It's alright." Spain whispered over and over.

No matter how many times Romano heard those soft warm words, he couldn't stop. He wanted his father, he wanted his mother; he wanted his little brother in Austria. Why did God take them from him? Why did he trade in those who over looked his cripple body for this stranger?

For what seemed like hours, they laid there. The only movement was Romano's heaving shoulders, and Antonio's big hands, running through the child's hair. Romano's tears began to dry, replacing his sobs with hiccups. The boy was still distraught but had no more liquid to produce his tears.

Slowly, the Spaniard uncoiled Romano from his body to sit up.

"Let me get you some water." Romano nodded; his puffy red eyes could be seen via moonlight. Quickly Antonio walked into the kitchen and came back with a small glass of water which Romano ravaged hastily. The odd sense of yearning for water still remained. But Romano never got the chance, for Antonio took his hand, smiling sadly at the young man.

"Would you like me to sing you a song, Romano?"

Romano quirked an eyebrow before saying slowly with his constricted throat, "What will that do?"

"My mother used to sing to me all the time. Especially when I woke up from bad dreams. It's not much, but whenever I finally fell back asleep, my dreams were always light." Antonio explained as he reached underneath his bed, dragging out an old beaten up guitar. "It's up to you mi hermano."

Romano shrugged, laying back down kicking the covers slightly before flinching and letting out a yelp.

"Careful! Don't- Your legs are…" Antonio stopped. "Tired, you need to be careful." No doubt the Spaniard didn't want to set off this child at three am. Vigilantly, Antonio loosed the sheets around the boy's legs for him. "There."

"Are ya going to sing or what?" The boy replied impatiently instead of showing gratitude.

"Right, right." Antonio replied softly as he strummed a few strings.

"All I do is dream of you the whole night through. Where the dawn I still go on dreaming of you. Your every thought, your everything. Your every song I ever sing. Summer, winter, autumn and spring."

Romano bristled. Dean Martin, the tomato eating bastard was singing Dean Martin. His senses seemed to become more alert as his body became rigid. This was the artist his mother had him sing constantly. But it wasn't the version his mother and himself sang together. It was softer, more upbeat, and simple.

"And where them all and twenty-four hours a day, Let be spent in sweet content dreaming away. When skies are gray, when skies are blue. Morning, noon and night time too. All I do, the whole day through, is dream of you."

A part of Romano wanted to scream at Antonio, "How dare he sing this song? How dare he even know this artist?" But… The anger passed quickly. It was weird that a man he didn't know was singing Dean Martin. The very stranger Romano had to live with- was singing him something that meant the world to him. Before Romano noticed, he licked his lips and started in with Antonio.

"And where them all and twenty-four hours a day. Let be spent in sweet content dreaming away. When skies are gray; when skies are blue. Morning, noon and night time too. All I do, the whole day through, is dream of you."

With each word that poured from the boy's mouth, Antonio's lips pulled tighter into a smile. It was so big, that he had problems saying the English words. But they finished together and as soon as the final cords of Antonio's guitar ended, Romano rolled over facing away from the Spaniard.

"You have a nice singing voice, Romano. Did someone teach you?"

"My mother." He muttered.

"You should come and sing for the residents some time! They would love to hear Dean Martin from you. You're voice is almost as deep as his. It's nice."

"I would like to sleep, Antonio. My legs hurt, and now so does my head." Romano snapped.

"Oh right."

Romano heard the guitar being shoved back under the bed and weight being shifted around and Antonio climbed over Romano onto his respective part of his bed. Antonio didn't say a word. And after awhile, Romano could hear the soft breaths of the man sleeping. It was silent, but he could hear the trumpets and clarinets of the song playing. Gripping his ears, the boy tried to close them out and he squeezed his eyes shut. Instead, he could see his mother in her lovely blue dress, dancing with Feliciano in an uncoordinated swing dance. Romano's father would be laughing and clapping to the beat; Romano with his clumsy hands would try to keep the beat as well. But he found that unless he was singing along with Dean, he couldn't clap the beat correctly. His hands would jerk away as if there were two positive charged magnets in his palms.

Sleep began to fog his senses, he could almost smell the freshly cut barely and garlic from the kitchen, the smell of his mothers perfume and his father's cigars. Almost, he could hear Feliciano's laugh, so high and charming.

But something else was added into the element of his memory. The sound of Antonio's guitar, leaked in, and instead of Dean Martin's slow, straight forward song, it was the upbeat and happy song. Antonio was on the record player…

Pain again, even more intense than last night flooded Romano's very being. He hissed awake his leg jerked without his permission to the side.

What the hell had happened last night?

He had woken in the middle of the night… But before then?

An eerie ghost like feeling flooded through his system, making his hair stand on end. He had stood that evening… But then, that's when the pain had started. The young Italian twisted in the bed trying to hit the sleeping Antonio, but found his side of the bed empty. Of course he would be up before Romano, fate was cruel enough to steal away his chance to give that bastard a black eye.

Huffing, Romano used his arms to remove the sheets. He let out an audible gasp at the site. Both his legs were swollen and in some places darken with bruises. The iron lining of his braces in some places dug into his flesh from the extremity of the swollen limb.

"_Bastard!_" Romano let out a high pitched cry as he lurched forward try to rub some of the pain away.

At that time the door clicked open with Antonio waltzing in with the morning mail.

"_You bastard!_ What did ya do to me?" Romano started in fiercely screaming.

"Romano…"

"No! Look at my fucking legs! You've killed them! You've killed my legs!" Romano accused.

Antonio placed the mail on a stand waltzing into the kitchen, almost ignoring Romano. This caused the boy to just scream. The Spaniard flinched from the display of childish act, and the ringing it left in his ears. Certainly, the neighbors were going to hear that one. But Antonio let Romano scream and scream as the man calmly removed ice cubes from the icebox, placing them in a bag.

"Let him scream… His voice will be too worn to argue in a bit." Antonio muttered to himself. The short sentence of malice calming the man.

He walked back in to face a red faced and angry Romano. "Here." Antonio said as cheerfully as ever. As expected Romano took the bags and through them across the room. One managed to knock picture off its stand. Antonio went and fetched them slowly.

"Why couldn't you just leave me be?" Romano spat.

"What on Earth do you mean?" Antonio said passively as possible.

"Why do you insist on trying to make me walk? Just leave me be!"

"Do you really mean that? Do you really want to be confined to a chair the rest of your life?"

The boy shook in rage before he let it all out in a shout, "_Of course I do!_"

Antonio sat on the edge of the bed placing the bags on the swollen legs, swatting away the angry Italian hands. "Why may I ask?"

"Do you honestly think that you're the first one to try? My parents, they sent me to many doctors, they all made me try."

"I'm not a doctor Romano, I'm different."

"You're not a doctor which makes you even less qualified to teach me to walk!"

"I try because I care for you, Romano."

"Oh yeah? My parents cared about me, but they eventually gave up. They were fine with the fact I will never walk. They didn't just care for me, they loved me."

Antonio looked at Romano for the first time that morning. The boy, despite being red faced and angry, looked… heartbreaking. The truth was killing him inside.

So carefully Antonio spoke, "Sometimes the people we love do things that aren't right. Because it hurts too much to see us struggle. They loved you Romano. They truly did. I imagine them seeing their son struggle to do daily things was heartbreaking. And receiving bad news after bad news broke their hearts." Romano's face softened for a moment before frowning once again. "I care for you Romano, and I don't see anything about you that says you're a cripple or that you're stupid. Just give us time, and things will work out. Alright?"

A few moments transpired, eventually the boy nodded. "Alright. And I'm sorry about your legs. We'll take it easy for now on. Oh that reminds me…"

Antonio stood grabbing an envelope. "Your brother wrote to you." The small white letter was placed on Romano's lap.

A pair of dubious eyes looked up at Antonio. The puzzled boy took the letter off his lap and with trembling hands passed it back. "I don't know how to read." Romano stated straightforwardly.

Antonio mouth opened and closed multiple times before he managed to choke out, "You mean your parents never sent you to school?"

"They did. But when I couldn't stop shaking, I stayed home." Romano hissed.

Antonio bristled before calmly asking, "Would you like me to read it to you then?" The boy nodded.

The older male cleared his throat before reading out loud, "Dear Big Brother, Cousin Roderich's house is nice. I get to sleep in all day. But Roderich makes me go to school every day and do my homework. Austria is a very cold place. There are no grape vines to steal from like I used to in Italy.

"There is another boy my age here. His name is Ludwig and he scares me. I think he tried to poison me with terrible bland food. Miss Eliza makes me be nice. But I do not like the food here. They do not even serve pasta.

"When will I get to see you again, brother? You have not written to me yet. Do you like Spain? I miss you. Feliciano." Spain ended the letter. Romano stayed posed silently, his bangs covering his eyes, but wet tear tracks could easily be seen as his small shoulders shook.

Gently, Antonio sat next to the boy placing a hand on his shoulders. "I can have Miss Lily teach you how to read in afternoon as well. Would you like that?" The boy nodded, he gritted his teeth, trying to muffle his sobs. "Shh…It's alright Romano, I'll help you compose a reply." The boy shook his head violently.

"I-I want to write him myself." He lifted his shaky hands to his face. "But…" His voice was weak. "I can't; not like this." More tears seem to burst, as his heart ached, ripping itself open.

Antonio quickly grabbed the boy into a rough embrace. He could feel Romano's tears dampening his shirt. But he didn't care; he allowed his shirt to soak those salty tears as he stroked the boy's hair. "Maybe… I can arrange something, and we can go and visit him. Would you like that, Romano?" The boy nodded. "Good. And don't worry, we'll fix you. We'll fix your legs and your hands. You've just got to believe, my friend."

* * *

**So sorry it took forever to write this! I wrote two versions of this chapter and had to fuse them together. Two parts from each version of chapter 7 will make up part of chapter 8. Sadly I am now officially gonna be busy during spring break. But I will try to get at least one chapter. I was planning on doing two or three since I would have huge amounts of free time... but you know couldnt have that no sir!**

**Also if you like my writing style and want a change in pace from mainstream Hetalia fanfics, please try out my new fanfic Roses and Tulips. It is a Liechtenstein/Netherlands story placed in WW2. Of course since it is the only Liechtenstein/Netherlands fanfic on here it is getting very little love. In my opinion it is much more well written than this story. So if you are all willing to support me and my writing go onto my account and give the fic a chance! **

**That is all. Have a nice spring break if you haven't had one already!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Romano had his braces removed the very same day he broke down, missing his only brother. Vash was rough as always; he practically knocked the bratty Romano senseless when the Italian told the doctor to 'go suck a wurst, you fag'. After that, the male doctor was not necessarily gentle with his patient, as he took out each screw to the braces. He even tossed a few three inch screws in the brat's general direction, hitting the boy in between the eyes. **

The result of the quick operation left Romano with a hoarse throat from yelling. It had been three weeks since the braces were removed, and the boy could still not get over how light and weak his legs felt. Without his braces to help support him whenever he stood, Romano had a lot of difficulty moving from his wheel chair to his bed. To his displeasure, Romano had to rely on Lily and Antonio heavily. The little freedom the boy felt with his braces seemed to evaporate into thin air. Both Vash and Antonio guaranteed that Romano would be able to move better without the braces. Even Lily parroted the same sentiments, but she was Doctor Zwingli's sister, so the girl could not be trusted either.

It wasn't until recently that he came to terms that Lily wasn't in cahoots with both Antonio and Vash. What they were planning, Romano did not know. But he sure as hell wasn't about to play their games!

As usual, Romano remained the as stubborn as ever.

Lily was sitting next to Romano with a book out in front of them. The large letters of the alphabet were printed on each page and Romano was learning the basics.

"The. Cat...is f-f-f- GRAH!" Romano screamed loudly ready to fling the book into another one of Antonio's breakable things. Lily quickly countered Romano taking the book from his hands.

"Romano, don't get mad. Just sound it out."

"This is stupid."

"Come on Romano you're doing beautifully." Lily encouraged. "Look, what is this first letter?"

"An 'f'."

"Good. Now this one here."

"That's an 'A' the other is a 'T' I'm not stupid, Lily." The boy smarted off.

Lily by week three had built up a quick resistance to her friend. After all, she was used to dementia patients that were much more unpredictable than Romano. "That's good, Romano. Now what sound does the 'A' and the 'T' form?"

"At."

"Now add the 'F' sound what do you get Romano?"

"F-Fat."

"That's correct. Now read the sentence again!"

"The cat is fat?" Romano read much more smoothly.

"Wonderful! Romano you will be reading and writing by end of the year like a pro! I just know it."

Romano crossed his hands and glowered, "Reading maybe. But writing, fuck no."

"Language Romano."

"Oh come on! You're starting to sound like Antonio!"

Lily giggled and ruffled his hair before giving a quick peck on his crown. "You are sometimes just too cross."

"And sometimes you're just too cheerful!" The boy countered causing the girl to smile widely as she walked over to the door where she kept her violin.

"How about you practice your writing and I'll play you some music. I'm tired of Antonio's bad taste in music."

"Hmpf. It's a good thing I agree with that statement or I wouldn't do my work."

Lily laughed with him as she played a few cords on her violin before sitting at her place on the bed. Romano placed a pencil in his hand began with his 'A's, that were a scribbling mess. Lily did not take that moment to give him advice. Instead she allowed the boy to try at his own pace.

The room was just starting to fill up with music when Antonio waltzed in through his door, looking tired and distraught. He let out a tired sigh, kicking off his shoes before heading into the kitchen for some refreshments.

"Good afternoon, Antonio. Had a rough day?" Lily asked as she played a fast upbeat song.

"Lord yes." Antonio answered back. "Mrs. Sanchez refused her pills today. What a nightmare to convince her to take them. She was starting to get rather violent to her roommate. Poor lady."

"Oh? But you did get her to take them?" Lily asked worriedly.

"Yes. Luckily."

"Who cares about a bunch of people who will be dead by the end of the year?" Romano spat as he continued to struggle with his A's.

"Romano!" The two others cried.

"That is not a very Christian thing to say, Romano." Antonio said from the kitchen as he began to pillage the icebox for dinner foods.

"Who cares? In a few months Christ is the only one who they'll be able to holler at!"

"Romano, they holler because they are confused. Have some compassion." Antonio chided as he picked up an onion to chop up.

Lily, who desperately wanted to change the subject, picked up her violin playing once more. "Hey, Romano. Do you know that new song by Dean Martin 'Mambo Italiano'?"

"Well duh! Why even ask?" The boy affirmed.

"Sing with me!"

"Shouldn't I be focusing on writing?" The boy said flatly.

Lily frowned sweetly. "But, surely the great Romano can sing and write at the same time?"

Romano rolled his eyes. "Fine. Lead me in."

Lily picked up a fast beat that mimicked the background singers she had heard on a record. Romano took in a deep breath. "Hey mambo, mambo Italiano. Hey, hey mambo, mambo Italiano. Go, go, go you mixed up Siciliano. All you Calabrese do the mambo like-a crazy with the. Hey mambo; don't wanna tarantella."

"I wish you could actually do the tarantella, Romano!" Antonio called from the kitchen. "Then maybe I could have a dance partner. I think I should teach you that dance, no?"

"Shut up you god damn Span-"

"Romano!" Lily chided.

Romano bristled and continued with the song with Lily writing each letter. Occasionally, the boy would make up his own lyrics, singing about how Antonio had busted his legs, only for Miss Liechtenstein to chide him back in to the original lyrics.

Antonio had to suppress a comment before coming out into the living room with the other two. He joined in with Romano's singing, " Hey mambo, mambo Italiano." but the boy started singing negative lyrics about the Spaniard's singing abilities in Italian. Antonio quit, not wanting to make the bratty Romano emerge. Settling next to his chair, he looked down curiously at the boy's progress.

The man let out a gasp. "Romano..."

"What?" Romano sang to the beat, "Do you want?"

"You're writing smoothly. You're hands aren't shaking."

Romano stopped singing, and the tail to one of his many A's became a mess of jerky motions. The boy looked at Antonio looking for the answer to what was going on.

"Sing again, mi hermano."

"Hey mambo, mambo Italiano. Hey, hey mambo, mambo Italiano." Romano began to sing over and over again as he wrote an 'A' perfectly then a 'B'. Letter after letter was smooth, as if Lily or Antonio had written the letters themselves.

The boy's eyes began to tear up as he passed the letter 'O', his body began to shake as a flood of emotion coursed through his veins. Lily flung her arms around the Italian, the bow of her violin sticking out to hit Antonio. The girl had tears in her eyes as well.

Antonio snaked his own arm around the two crying children, leaning on them before whispering quietly. "I told you, you could be cured, my friend."

Romano nodded, his tears stilling as he sniffled. "But I don't understand. Why can I write without shaking when I sing?" His voice cracked with emotion, big boyish eyes looking up to Antonio, expecting this seer of twenty to be able to answer his question.

Antonio shook his head. "I'm not sure. Let's make sure this isn't a fluke, no?" The Spaniard replied sincerely. "Here; sing and hold your hands out in front of you."

Romano complied. His arms outstretched; they jerked and converged like they were not his own and some cruel puppeteer was commanding his every movement. The boy took a deep breath, then released a song. Instantly, his arms were freed from the invisible puppeteer, his arms and hands stiffened.

Lily gasped, "We must tell my brother about this! Surely he would understand what we are seeing, Antonio."

Romano hissed, "I think I'd rather remain crippled."

Antonio laughed and hugged the indignant Italian. "Of course you would. Only you would." Antonio cried in mirth as he kissed the boys hair. Embarrassed, Romano shoved the man off of him.

"Oh look, Herr Carriedo. Romano is as red as a tomato!"

"The most adorable tomato!" The Spaniard pinched the boy's cheek causing a cry from Romano.

"Damn it Antonio! Stop it!"

"Yes, my most talented singer!" Antonio lied as he held him in a strong hug. Despite the boy's screams and protests, Antonio did not remove himself.

In those long three months, Antonio had never felt so relieved. The pressure of taking care of Romano seemed to lift. The man had spent many nights wondering if he could really help the boy walk again, or if it was just a pointless crusade. But this afternoon assured all would be turn out like a fairy tale. Never had Antonio loved Dean Martin so much. He loved the American even as his food on his stove overcooked and burnt.

None of it mattered. Only Romano did.

* * *

Two men appeared one morning, before a single farmer was out in his fields, or a rooster had crowed. Only the grey sun was peeking out from behind the large Austrian Alps. The shorter of the two began to pound harshly on the door. Repeatedly, the man's hand rasped against the wood until a light in one of the second floors lit. The sound of quick, light steps lead to the door to be opened by a slim woman.

"What do you want?" The tired voice called out.

"Does Feliciano Veneziano Vargas reside here?" A gruff British accent asked. Through the shadows, the woman could see the stern features.

Opening the door wider, the woman wrapped her shawl around herself more tightly before stepping out into the morning chill, closing the door behind her. "He does. But what do the likes of you two want to do with a twelve year old boy?"

The two men reached out to procure their respective small leather booklets. They flipped them open and the man spoke once again. "We are employed by the Italian government in search of a group of people that were linked to Feliciano Vargas' mother's death."

* * *

**Okay people this is it! I have found someone to beta this fanfic. So this will have to tide you over until I have gotten all of chapters 1-8 up to par and then from chapter 9 on they will be beta'd before they are uploaded onto this site. At his moment I dont want to you disappoint any of my readers so I am willing to rewrite huge parts of this story to get this thing shining like gold. If anything changes drastically I will tell you what you need to read at the beginning of chapter 9, but I doubt it will so do not fret. **

**As you may have assumed we are about to take another turn in this story. I have been planning for this to happen for ages and I am glad that I have finally reached this mile stone! I hope you will all still enjoy this story even though a new element is about to be thrown into the mixer. I would love to hear some feed back on what you think of this development and if you hate it or not. Also, if you would like to see more of something in this, please let me know and I will try my damnedest to implement it!  
**


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